vs.

This place is damp and ghostlyI am already gone.And the halls were linedwith the disembodied and the dustly wings,which fell from flesh gasplessly.

And I go where the trees are,and I walk from a higher education(for now, and for hire).

It beats me, but I do notknow.It beats me, but I do not know.It beats me, but I do not know.I do not know.

Palaces and stormcloudsthe rough, straggly sage, and the smokeand the way it will all come together(in quietness, in time).

Bitch, you laws of propertybitch, you free economybitch, you unending afterthoughts,you could've told me before —

Never get so attached to a poemyou forget truth that lacks lyricism;never draw so close to the heatthat you forget that you must eat.In order to make the musicseems I must break so many things.Turn over like bracken and sea-shrapnelgrazed by the tongue of a beetle-green sea.Let each note bea full-bodied song:enough fingers,enough toes,skin to cover the rich, bloody beat,enough belly,enough feet.

This place is damp and ghostlyI am already gone.And the halls were linedwith the disembodied and dustly wings,which fell from flesh gasplessly.

And I go where the trees go,and I walk from a higher education(for now, for hire).

Andit beats me, but I do not know.

Palaces and stormcloudsthe rough, straggly sage, and the smokeand the way it will all come together(in quietness, in time).